


night terrors

by angel_red



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: (it's like hardly there), Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, M/M, Nightmares, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:47:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25669195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel_red/pseuds/angel_red
Summary: Cherri Cola's had nightmares for as long as he can remember. But this is the first time in a long time someone's been there to comfort him.
Relationships: Agent Cherri Cola/Kobra Kid (Danger Days)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	night terrors

A breeze filtered through the open windows, ruffling pages with hastily scribbled rhymes on the nightstand, whisking through the bleached-blonde waves of one of the figures in the bed, caressing the figure of the brunette sitting up, leaned against the headboard of the bed, breathing heavily.  
Cherri Cola clutched at his arms, digging in deep with fingernails that were just a little too long, leaving white scratches in the dark. He tilted his head back, mouth agape, eyes rolled back in his head. He wasn’t awake - he was hovering somewhere between awake and asleep, visions of things that weren’t really there passing in front of his blue eyes, feelings of invisible hands grabbing at his dirty tank top, hearing footsteps and shouts that no one else could hear.   
He hadn’t had a nightmare this bad since - geez, since he was a tiny little kid wandering the desert with memories of shit that a tiny kid shouldn’t have gone through filling his head. Or maybe his last one was when he was trying to stop being a useless wavehead - yeah, that had to be it. The nightmares always got real bad when he was missing something he got used to - his life in Bat City or sitting in a chair for days letting his skin burn away.  
He let out a dry sob, pulling his knees up to his chest and burying his face in his hands. Cherri’s shoulders shook with the almost-but-not-quite paralyzing fear that filled his body, hearing his parents yell again, hearing their footsteps on the stairs, feeling spiders crawl up his back and bury themselves in his ratty t-shirt, seeing a many-limbed figure slowly inch forward in the darkness -  
“Cherri. Cher, look at me.” A familiar voice cut through the heat, inches away from Cherri’s shoulder. “Cherri.”  
Cherri jerked his head up, wild-eyed, hair matted with sweat. “Kid?”  
“Right here.” Kobra reached out, taking Cherri’s wrists in his hands. “I’m right here.”  
“You’re - they - you’re -” Cherri sobbed, practically folding in on himself like one of those flowers that close when they’re touched.  
“Shh… You’re fine, doll.” Kobra scooted toward the shaking figure on the right side of the bed, still clasping his hands. “You’re fine. It was just a nightmare.”  
Cherri buried his face in Kobra’s chest. He couldn’t bear to meet Kobra’s eyes right then. “Kobra - it was terrible - I was b-back there and -”  
Kobra’s shirt was practically soaked through, but he didn’t care. He took Cherri’s face in his hands, feeling Cherri’s haven’t-shaved-in-a-couple-days stubble and the damp from Cherri’s tears. “Cher, you’re okay. ‘S just a nightmare.”  
Cherri hiccupped and wiped his face with the back of his hand, trying for a small smile. “Shit - sorry, Kobe. I didn’t mean to give ya a bath.”  
Kobra kissed Cherri’s forehead gently and brushed the taller killjoy’s hair out of his eyes. “You’re fine, doll. I’ll just pay ya back when I get a nightmare myself.”  
“I’m sure you’ll cry like a baby then, just like me.” Cherri lay back down, curled up beside Kobra.  
Kobra ran his hands through Cherri’s hair, sitting propped against a stack of pillows. “Well,” he said slowly, “I don’t judge much when it comes to cryin’, Cola.” His voice was the softest Cherri had ever heard it. “The - the idea that cryin’ is bad is dumb. ‘S just a way to show your feelings, like yelling or laughing,” he rambled, pulling a bit too hard at Cherri’s hair.  
“That sounds smart. I’m lucky to have such a smart boyfriend.” Cherri’s breathing was even now, and he felt a bit calmer.  
“Hell yeah, you are,” Kobra replied, kissing Cherri’s forehead again. “Get some rest, why don’t you?”  
“Will do,” Cherri mumbled, tilting his head back so that Kobra could see his smile.  
The breeze filtered through the room again, ruffling strands of brown and blonde hair, flipping pages of poetry, comforting the two just a little.


End file.
